


One More Drink?

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Callan (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Callan and Meres have time to kill before their mission.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5





	One More Drink?

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the scene in the pub in 'Heir Apparent' where Meres wants another drink. A few fun scenarios here about what might have happened.

Scenario one- One more drink

“When you said one more drink you really meant it?” Meres grumbled as they headed to their destination.

“I know you, Toby. One drink leads to five and then five drinks leads us to lying in a ditch somewhere in a very different sense.”

“Spoil sport. I barely had time to savour our boy’s night out.”

They wearily sat down together, hidden behind a tree, covered in dust, close enough to view the minefield so that Callan could get a good grasp of his bearings and location and be ready and willing for the operation that lay ahead.

“Don’t you feel safer knowing we’ve got all the bases covered?” Callan said, looking through his notes and rolling his eyes when Meres stifled a yawn at his expense.

“There were a few bases I wished to cover back at that pub.”

“Yeah I saw that bird you were eyeing up and sorry mate, I don’t think she was interested.”

“Well I’ll never know now.”

“Trust me, Toby, not your type.”

“And you know my type?”

“Look, we get this done and you can pull as many lonely frauleins as you like on the next trip.”

“Is that a promise?”

Callan smiled and then pulled out his map. “Can you focus on this now?”

“David, it’s fifteen hours away. I don’t mind putting the work in but even troops in battle got a little action before they went over the top.”

“Fine,” Callan said and tossed the map onto the ground. “What do you want to do? Sit here and play truth and dare, have a little slumber party? I could plait your hair?” 

“Sarcasm aside, I simply like to take it easy for a bit before a big job.”

“There’s no alcohol here, mate. Just the two of us now.”

“In a ditch together all night, yes, I’m well aware. I’ve had better assignments.”

“Do you ever stop complaining?”

Meres raised his hands in protest. “Fine, fine, I shall cease being annoyed with you. Perhaps this ditch will be quite cosy, perhaps we shall bond.”

Edging away, Callan snorted. “I’m not really one for bonding, alright?”

“So I gathered. But in case you’d forgotten, we’re here for FIFTEEN hours!”

Callan grabbed Meres’ arm and hushed him. “Fine, fine, we’ll talk. We’ll bond.”

Taking a look up at the sky, Meres sniffed. “I mean, we could be blown to smithereens tomorrow, wouldn’t it be nice to know one another first?”

“I think I’ll be just fine dying without knowing your intimate details.”

“Shame. I thought we could get a little bit intimate ourselves.”

Smirking, Callan shook him away. “Leave off.”

There was silence then as Meres took a swig of water and then scratched his eye with the handle of his gun. He was so tired he could feel his eyes closing with the boredom. It was hard to tell how Callan seemed as the darkness had surrounded them and he could barely see his colleague in the black.

“Nice night though,” Meres said, glancing upwards again, taking a moment to appreciate the stars. “Full moon eh?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to turn into a werewolf at any second?”

With a laugh, Meres looked down at himself. “What and be here naked as the day I was born, ready to devour you?”

There was silence again. Excruciating silence. Only the sounds of owls in the night. 

“Toby?”

“Yes?”

“What are we going to do for fifteen hours?” He laughed. 

“You bastard, David, old boy! I wanted to spend the night on the town but the almighty David Callan wanted to fondle every blade of grass and the foliage, wanted to climb every mountain and ford every stream as if he were Julie bleedin’ Andrews as that nun.”

“Alright, mate, I get it, we were a little early.”

“A little early? Snow in September is early. The early bird catching the worm is early, you’re just darned premature.”

“I wanted to cover…”

“…all angles, yes, you’ve said! Whereas I wanted to cover all angles of that pub, the drink, the women…and now I’m spending my night with you, in a ditch, under the romantic full moon!”

Callan sniffed. “Could be worse.”

“How?”

“Lonely could be here with us.”

They both started to laugh.

…

Scenario 2- Several More Drinks

Handcuffed to one another on the floor, Callan and Meres sighed deeply as morning light streamed through the solitary curtain in their shabby bed and breakfast room.

“One more drink you said,” Callan began, “one more bleedin’ drink.”

“Don’t blame me, old son. It wasn’t the drink which tied us up and robbed us.”

“But if we hadn’t have sat there drinking with you splashing your money about like some drunken millionaire!”

“It was your boyish charms that had those…ladies…asking us all sorts of questions. I should have known you were not interesting enough for that kind of attention.”

Callan and Meres shuffled together toward the door, uncomfortable and tired as they stretched to a standing position and attempted to open the door. As earlier, it was still locked. They slumped back onto the floor, not keen to knock too loudly and alert anyone before they could slip away quietly.

“Charlie’s gonna massacre us,” said Callan. “But no, you wanted to pull birds, sweet little frauleins.”

“Well they were at first. Mine was all over me like a rash.”

“Because they wanted our money, Toby, not us.”

“Ah yes, we did hit rather a bit of a snag in that respect.”

“A bit of a snag, they were men, Toby! Burly, hairy men and if we hadn’t have been plastered then we’d have bloody noticed we’d been kissing two geezers.”

Meres laughed. “It’s quite amusing when you think about it.”

Callan elbowed him. “Funny? Toby, we have ruined an operation and all for a bit of hanky panky with two fellas!”

“Well it wasn’t quite hanky panky, David, we never got to the bedroom. They kindly robbed us before any of that awkwardness.”

Sneering, Callan turned away from Meres. “Toby, when they find us here, they’re gonna arrest me and find your rotting corpse still handcuffed to me!”

“Still. It’s better than spending eighteen hours in a ditch.”

…

Scenario 3- Many Many Drinks

Callan gulped down another drink, laughing hysterically as he wiped the beer foam from his chin. “In these glasses I have no idea how much I’ve had.”

“You’re not wearing glasses,” Meres said, pointing to Callan’s eyes.

“Not those glasses, you idiot,” he replied, spluttering with laughter. “These glasses,” he said, holding up his drink.

“I see. Well, god bless Germany. It’s not often I’ll say that.”

“Hang about, where’s Peter gone?” Callan said, looking around.

“Peter?! Peter?!” Meres sang out loudly, waving his arms in the air. “You’ve gone off us or something, old boy?”

Peter, trying to hush them, arrived at the table and sighed. “Haven’t you boys had enough?”

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” Meres began, “We’ll adore you forever if you bring us more drinks.”

“We were only meant to have one more.” Callan hiccupped. “Oh my gawd, what time is it?”

“Ten minutes since you last asked.”

“We’re meant to be in a ditch, observing every glade of brass.”

Meres rested his head upon the table. “I’d rather have a nice sleep on this soft bed. Join me, David?”

“Don’t be daft, you old sod…there’s no pillow.”

“No problem.” Meres leaned over and lay his head on Callan’s arm. “Found one.”

“I’m not a pillow but Toby, Toby, we’re meant to be heading off. Work to do. We need to sober up.”

He began slapping his own cheeks until they were red. Meres on the other hand could barely raise his head from Callan’s arm. It was hours later before they had managed to drag themselves away from the pub, out into the open and make the way to their destination. They had not slept, barely eaten and had no time to wash. The inebriated pair sat down behind some trees, slipped into the ditch and sighed.

“We made it,” Meres said, punching his numb legs. “See, David, no need for all that waiting around. Drunk or sober I know what I’m doing.”

Narrowing his eyes, Callan grabbed his binoculars and glanced around at the fields surrounding them. He gulped. His heart beat quickened. “Toby, bloody hell.”

Meres clutched his throbbing forehead. “Don’t shout! What is it?”

“We’re in the wrong bloody ditch!”


End file.
